


that was the voice of an animal

by I_Am_Not_A_Robot



Category: Die Verwandlung | The Metamorphosis - Franz Kafka
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Human, Gen, I'm crying, this book made me sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-07 18:00:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21462214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Am_Not_A_Robot/pseuds/I_Am_Not_A_Robot
Summary: Amazingly, Gregor doesn't die.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	that was the voice of an animal

Months had passed, right? The clock ticked on, from midnight and forward. 1 AM, 2 AM, Gregor lay alone in the room, breath labored, thoughts dark and confused, trying to come to peace with everything, trying to decipher the heaviness in his chest and why any of this had happened. The room was so empty it had become stifling. Even if there was furniture in here, it was true that Gregor Samsa was seriously alone. He stared up at the painting on his wall, a painting of wealth and luxury, and then around his room, at bare walls and dust. 

How often he had wondered, in the dead of night, that if he had turned into something grander, something more beautiful, might his family still love him? Might he still have a use, instead of being locked in his room, forgotten with all their other useless belongings, drowning in dirt? 

“What now, then?” he’d asked himself a couple hours ago, motionless. Over time since then, the pain in his back had slowly faded. Gingerly, he tried to move a wing, but he could not. He didn’t even have the energy to lift his head, or twitch a single leg. 

What now? What now? 

His family did not want him. His sister had called him a monster, proclaiming that she didn’t want to call him a brother, and that he had to be disposed of. Really, Grete had made the decision for him. As soon as those words had fallen from her lips, her unknowing that he understood every word, the rest of the world and himself had chosen not to go on while he still lived. It would be easier for his family if he simply… drifted off. 

How odd a feeling it is, to be content with being hated. To accept a dying fate with nothing but apathy. Gregor didn’t feel like feeling anything anymore, though. He just wanted to be at peace. 

The air outside lightened with the arrival of the sun, and as the clock struck 3 AM, Gregor felt himself slip away into darkness.

On one cold morning, when Gregor Samsa woke from dreamless sleep, he found himself transformed on the hard floor into a normal human man. He lay on his soft back, and if he lifted his head a little he could see his bare chest, skinny and pale. Good heavens. 

He let his head fall back onto the floor, and it barely made a thump. Staring up at the ceiling, Gregor tried to blink away the sudden wetness in his eyes. 

The door opened, and the charwoman came in. She froze, and then he felt a broom poke him. Gregor did nothing but blink in response; he felt too weak to respond verbally. 

“Oh, would you look at that,” the charwoman said aloud, and then she rushed from the room to go fetch the other three Samsas. 

It was hard for life to go back to normal after that. The thing that stuck out the most in his mind, later on, was the wide-eyed looks of guilt he’d receive anytime he walked into a room with his family. The way they’d go all stiff and still, sitting up straighter, and the way that nobody could meet his eyes. 

Gregor never got to walk up to his boss and tell him loudly that he quit, but telling it to his family was good enough. No more salesman jobs, and no more of this house. He couldn’t stand the place any longer. 

He left with only a few changes of clothes and the painting on his wall. He’d be fine, he was sure, if he just did what he wanted and never spoke to his family again. While he was an insect, while he was left alone to die in that room, he’d still loved them. Even with the apple lodged in his back (it had to be removed surgically once he’d changed back-- explaining that to the doctor was difficult), Gregor still found it within himself not to fault them for their behaviour. Surely he was to blame in some way. He knew his appearances were awful, and that made them afraid and disgusted. Who wants to spend time with a monstrosity?

But then again, isn’t family supposed to look past faults and continue to love a person through their revolting visage? Aren’t they supposed to see what’s really there? If they cared, shouldn’t they have noticed that the whole time, Gregor was still Gregor, even if he looked a little different? He hadn’t been abducted and replaced with a giant bug. So where had they been, and why hadn’t they continued to love him? 

Nobody likes to be a chore. No one wants to be a burden. Gregor Samsa thought the answer was death, but that was before he’d “changed back.” 

Lying on his bed, on his side like he used to before the metamorphosis, Gregor thought about how that part of him still stuck. Those months of isolation and climbing on the walls stayed with him. Now, he couldn’t fully feel comfortable without a weight of some sort on his back. And every once in awhile he’d catch himself staring at the wall, wishing he could just… climb it. 

His new job is better than the old one. Much less traveling, much less gossip, much less exhaustion. 

Gregor doesn’t feel the same. He doesn’t feel like he’s “turned back.” Maybe Grete was right. Maybe he isn’t the same anymore, maybe he isn’t her brother, maybe it’s a good thing he left them all. 

They shouldn’t feel sad, right? They got what they wanted. Gregor is gone. Gregor’s gone off and ran away, and the new version of him likes to climb the walls at night. 


End file.
